Wednesday, September 03, 2008

back from Georgia

My bench before the storm...

We were still forbidden to come back to the city yesterday, yet, I could not resist driving 9 hours to get home again. I had my niece, daughter and son with me as we rode alongside many, many utility trucks heading in the same direction. We came through heavy rain as we approached Mandeville. We had a placard saying we were Tier 2, which meant we were part of the city's infra-structure, in case anyone stopped us and tried to make us turn around. That and fines were what was in store for us we were told along the way.

My sister and her family in Atlanta were so gracious and generous. It was the perfect comfort spot for me and another sister and her family of five as we anxiously waited for words from our communities. I kept in touch with Michael the whole time, waking him from naps on a couple of occasions. He said it was nothing like what was forecasted. I am glad for that, though mad about having to evacuate.

We are safe. The only damage was a tree hitting the bench in my back yard. Downed power lines litter the road I live on. Michael said he was without electricity for about 8 hours. He had a generator to keep him comfortable, and food safe from spoiling in the fridge and freezer.

After Gustav passed...

I want to move. Arizona, New Mexico, or West Texas appeal to me. I think I printed the same thing soon after Hurricane Katrina. The uprooted trees on my property serve as metaphorical reminders that my roots aren't in the ground here anymore. I am ready to be transplanted. How to get the family on the same page, plus find housing and a job that pays me well enough to leave are my challenges now.

2 comments:

Rob said...

Sorry about the bench.

Jupiter's Girl said...

Yeah, that's a shame about my bench. I can replace it when I catch up on the financial strain this Gustav imposed upon me; not that this strain is different from the economic pressures I have been living with since Hurricane Katrina. Others have it worse, so I will have to count my blessings. Still... one last sigh, and then I am rolling up my sleeves and getting to work.

My job has been shut down for a week, and was slow-going for days before that as people evacuated. I should find a salaried job. Not going to, but I should.